


Personal Possessions

by KNSkns



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 07:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17956373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KNSkns/pseuds/KNSkns
Summary: What's mine is mine, so hands off. Thrace's POV.Set S2, spoilers through that season





	Personal Possessions

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published 8/2005.

Disclaimer: No one here is mine.

 

I once complained I had no shoes  
until I met a man who had no feet.  
-Anonymous

 

You made a mistake. A big mistake. Gods know it's not your first, but it may end up your worst. That keeps going around and around in your head until even the smack of the pyramid ball against the wall and your hand sounds like your thoughts: smack, smack-smack (big, mis-take, big, mis-take) smack, smack-smack.

Sitting alone in the furthest corner you could find, you know leaving Caprica was a mistake. You should've stayed, should've sent the arrow back with Helo, should've tried to free those women. In the moments between when the ball leaves your grasp and hits the deck, you can acknowledge that Anders and the others are most likely already dead; in the instants while the ball is in flight between deck and wall, you can accept that you weren't "almost" one of those Colonial women, you were one of them. And you left them, and Anders and his pitifully small team of amateurs.

Smack, smack-smack (big, mis-take.)

The ball that was on its way back to your waiting hand is snatched right out of the air – and if that isn't symbolic, nothing is. But it isn't fate; it's only Lee.

"Wondered when we were gonna get some R&R around here," he teases.

Once you would've returned, "Rules and regulations?" Now you just think, he has what's yours, and you want it back. Now.

Lee doesn't know the danger he's in. That ball belongs to you and you want it back. Suddenly it's everything you've lost, everything that's been taken from you, and the smoldering anger you've been stashing down is boiling up. You're about ready to smash Lee into the deck for that ball, but the scars still hurt and you know if you attack, something will open up. And you'll do anything to keep this secret. You won't even shower, afraid someone will walk in on you, afraid you'll walk in on yourself.

And this is Lee who has your ball, not some fraking cylon who has your body. Start wailing on Lee and you'll never stop.

"Keep it," you hiss, and you're not just talking to Lee, you're dismissing anyone who ever took what was yours – your planet, your freedom, your power to choose. You didn't want it anyway.

Lee can tell he's pushed too far. He gives you back the ball. That's Lee – he's sweet and he means well. Now, can he give you back your innocence, your power to close your eyes and not see women in labs?

He leans against your back, the fence between you, and says, "It must've been hard for you, back on Caprica. . ."

He's got no frakin' idea. You haven't hit rock-bottom until you've been abandoned in a cylon looney-bin after being gutted and pumped full of drugs.

". . .I'm your friend and I love you. . ."

Bad! Bad. Because, these days, anyone who claims to love you just a little, even if they don't say it, has a nasty habit of ending up very dead. Don't let him get any closer. He thinks you're hurt and Gods know Lee loves a cause.

You stand up and plaster on your best Starbuck smile. "You love me?" you tease. You tease and tease until he laughs and leaves, convinced you're fine.

Then it's just you and the ball once more. "Okay," you say to the ball, laughing a little. Lee's okay, you're okay, ball's okay, universe is okay, Ander's okay, Caprica's okay, everything's okay. . .

You slouch onto the bench and laugh and laugh and laugh. Anyone who might pass by will think you're laughing so hard, that's why you're crying.

You've got your ball back. . .

(End)


End file.
